Emilia Imp

Stopped writing creatively decades ago and don’t know how to restart so giving this a go.

Writings

Followers

Following

Emilia Imp

Stopped writing creatively decades ago and don’t know how to restart so giving this a go.

Writings

Followers

Following

The Favourite child

Emilia Imp

1 min read

Always first and never last,

The favourite child assured.

Loved and liked,

Encouraged and ??

The Favourite Child is proud.

What a difference these things can make,

To a person as they grow.

To not be ignored, forgotten, disliked,

A source of annoyance or sorrow.

All children should be The Favourite Child,

Each deserves this simple start.

To be allowed to feel love and joy.

To live with a free and ...

Poetry

The Thing

Emilia Imp

1 min read

“Under the bridge. I found it under the bridge”.

Silence.

A pause.

“Come on now, you already knew that didn’t you”

Another pause. The chair creaked as she shifted uneasily.

“What did you think I was going to do? Forget all about it? I followed you to the Bridge and watched you dump it. Did you hope someone else would find it? Did that thought make you feel a bit better? Did you think that may...

Water

Emilia Imp

1 min read

The sound of the water changed. At the top it was crystal clear, tinkling shrill and shallow as it tumbled down the gentle slope between its soft earthy banks. Glittering and sparkling under the hot sun and enjoying the cool shady protection of the ancient woodland it trickled through and fed. Then with a deep gurgle it suddenly cascaded over exposed bedrock and poured into a long deep pool. As i...

Drama

Lullaby

Emilia Imp

1 min read

Tiny angel

Rest your eyes

Weary from your day

So much to see

So much learn

Now let imagination play

Cradled in my arms

In the embers of the day

I will gently rock you now

‘Till deep sleep comes your way

Time to drift off

Lovely child

Into a sleepy haze

softly gather in those dreams and

nestle far into the veil

Safe and sheltered in my arms

May your mind and body float

Steady breaths will feed...

Poetry

Parles

Emilia Imp

1 min read

The babble filled the room. It had been quiet and restrained while the session was on. Everyone listened carefully to each speaker in turn. Teams of advisers passed notes back and forth to support their particular mouthpiece. Interpreters simultaneously babbled translations into dozens of languages and were heard by delegates through their individual earphones. Every uttered word was recorded in n...

Drama

Nightfall

Emilia Imp

1 min read

Those are the stars and

this is the flame.

The horrors of dawn for those who remain.

Their cities are burning,

their known world collapsed.

Stunned by the darkness, their senses have lapsed

Shocked with beauty, second sight.

As stars illuminate the night.

Fire sweeps the landscape,

Flames glow shrunken and cold.

There will be no legacy from this inferno.

It will leave no story to be told.

Th...

Poetry

Science fiction

Tantrum

Emilia Imp

1 min read

The small frames of this rather motley group of infants are assembled in the class room awaiting the instruction from the teacher to begin their free play. An interesting position has been taken up by Dylan who appears to have his eyes focussed on the slide in the far corner, Divna seems to be taking a position to the back possibly to avoid the potential skirmish that appears to be building within...

Humour

Before And After

Emilia Imp

1 min read

Big sense of relief

Before was drudge. Day after day after day.

After a sense of freedom

Caught fast in the flow

Desperate to cast free

Dying to move forward

Calling out for a reply

Every day

For a year

Getting nowhere fast

Every moment since that snag gave way and the boat came unstuck

Feels like walking into fresh air after a musty room, like feeling large soft cool drops of rain after a ...

Poetry

Complimented

Emilia Imp

1 min read

It felt so complicated. Her brain was not coping well with deciphering what was happening at that moment. It had come as such a surprise. Call after call of bodyless voices, bored and uninspired voices just or downright angry ones. She had imagined that this job often felt like a modern take on the old punishment of water torture. She had begun to feel dread for the moment she placed her headphone...

Drama

Morning Cuppa

Emilia Imp

1 min read

He rose at dawn with the birds

Stretched and half stumbled down the stairs.

The kettle click.

The cupboard door closing.

The low sound of bubbles.

The high pitch of china cup edges.

A moment of quiet.

The slow familiar creak of the stairs.

Step by step.

He brings me my morning cuppa.

On painful feet.

Carried with care.

Carried by love.

While my body

rests in a warm bed and

my mind dances off...

Poetry